New Years' Resolution
by isk2837
Summary: Dudley Dursley was on his way downstairs when the locked door caught his eye.


_None of the characters in this fanfic belong to me; I'm just borrowing them from J.K Rowling for the duration of this story. This is my first story, so constructive criticism would be appreciated._

* * *

Dudley Dursley was on his way downstairs when the locked door caught his eye.

It was New Year's Eve, and the Dursleys were throwing their annual New Year's Eve party. As midnight drew near, Dudley had gone upstairs to use the toilet. He was on his way downstairs to rejoin the party when the locked door to his cousin Harry Potter's bedroom caught his eye.

Dudley wasn't sure why the door had caught his eye now. After all, he had done his best to avoid looking at it for months now, had avoided looking at or thinking of anything that might remind him of that awful encounter with those…what had Harry called them? Dementoids? No, that was what Dad had called them. _Dementors_ – that was what Harry had said they were. That word was one of Dudley's few clear memories of the part of the night after the encounter with the Dementors themselves, and just thinking of it now sent chills down his spine and brought dark memories of that night back to the front of his mind, as if the Dementor was there to draw them out again.

* * *

_Dudley lay on the floor, his head spinning. He wasn't sure what had happened; one moment he was running away from Harry, desperate to escape before his cousin recovered from the punch Dudley had thrown at him and started using his magic against him – and the next, he was lying on the floor, a terrible coldness and sense of despair flooding him._

_Dudley knew that he had to get up and keep running, but somehow he couldn't find the will to do so. What was the point, anyway? He couldn't escape, couldn't do anything except delay the inevitable. There was no point in fighting._

_As Dudley lay there, visions started to flash through his mind – dark memories of things he would rather have forgotten, but never could no matter how hard he tried._

_**He was 11 years old, and in a small, dark hut. A giant man pointed an umbrella at him, there was a flash of purple light, and he was crying out in pain as a pig's tail grew out of his bottom.**_

_**He was 13 years old, watching wide-eyed as his Aunt Marge swelled up like a balloon after insulting Harry's parents. He'd never cared much for Marge himself (though he was more than happy to pretend otherwise if it got him presents), but the thought of how easily that could have been **__**him**__** blown up if he'd ever angered Harry as much as Marge had been enough to give him nightmares for weeks.**_

_**He was 14 years old, struggling to breathe around a tongue that was far too large for his mouth, while his mother tried to pull said tongue out and his father threw thing at a red-headed man.**_

_As Dudley lay on the floor, it occurred to him that all of these awful memories had one thing in common – they had all happened because of Harry. __Harry_ _was the one who had made Aunt Marge blow up like a balloon, and Dudley would have never met that giant man, or those red-headed twins who had tricked him into eating that awful candy, if it hadn't been for Harry. It was even Harry's fault that he was here now, reliving these awful memories under whatever evil magic his cousin was using on him…he could feel cold hands gripping his wrists and pulling them apart, could hear a strange rattling sound and felt colder than he'd even thought was possible…_

_And then Harry's voice was shouting his name, a bright light filled Dudley's eyes, and the darkness lifted. Dudley still felt worse than he had ever been in his life, but the unbearable coldness and despair were gone._

* * *

Dudley's memories of that night were disjointed and unclear after that point. He dimly remembered being hauled to his feet and dragged home by Harry, his parents and Harry shouting a lot, then a red letter that shouted about a last something or other. After that, Dudley's father helped him to bed and he fell asleep, only to be haunted by nightmares for the rest of the night _– _and for many nights afterwards.

Dudley wasn't clear on much about what had happened that night; he didn't understand what exactly Dementors were, or what the light that had driven them away was. There was only one thing he understood clearly, and that was that Harry had been responsible somehow for the light – that Harry had _saved_ him.

For years, Dudley had believed that Harry was the cause of all his suffering. He had believed his parents when they told him that magic was foul and unnatural, that it could cause nothing but suffering. Dudley's own experiences up to that point had certainly supported his parents' view of the world. Now, however, things were different. Harry had used his magic to save Dudley, to make the danger go away – and that after Dudley had hit him. Dudley's stomach churned again at the thought, but with guilt instead of fear. He had hit Harry – and not for the first time either – and Harry had still saved him. Would Dudley have made the same choice if their roles had been reversed, if Harry – the person he blamed for all his suffering – had been helpless and in need of rescuing? Dudley couldn't honestly say that he would have.

In that moment, Dudley realised the truth. He hadn't avoided thinking of that night because it scared him – he had avoided thinking of it because the events of that night went against everything he knew to be right in the world.

Magic was evil and could only be used to harm others – but Harry's magic had saved Dudley, had driven the Dementors away.

Harry was the cause of all Dudley's suffering – but it was Dudley who had hit Harry, who had taunted him about the death of that Cedric person, and Harry who had saved Dudley from suffering.

Dudley shook his head. His parents were wrong, a shocking realisation all by itself – magic _wasn't _all bad, and neither was Harry. If they were, then Dudley would have died that night…which meant that Dudley had been wrong to pick on Harry for having magic, a thought which sent another shudder of guilt through him. He had been so cruel to Harry, and now he saw that it had been for no good reason at all. But it was too late to do anything about it now…or was it?

Dudley felt a new sense of conviction fill him. It was too late to change the past; he couldn't take back all the times he and his friends had persecuted Harry, all the times he had been cruel to his cousin and thought that Harry having magic was all the justification he needed – but he _could_ change the future, he _could _change the way he acted from now on.

In that moment, as cheers drifted in from the living room as the New Year began, Dudley made a New Year's Resolution. From now on, he would treat Harry better. He would stop assuming that having magic made a person bad by default, and would treat those who had it like he would anyone else. His parents would undoubtedly disagree, but Dudley didn't care anymore. He'd followed their lead for too long, and it was time to make his own path in life. And somehow, he had a feeling that he wouldn't regret it.

_A/N: I know that the Dementor would have taken Dudley's soul instead of killing him, but Dudley's comments in DH seem to suggest that he didn't get that at this point, which is why I have him think that here. _


End file.
